


Expecting the Unexpected

by sweetomegachild



Series: Love-born (A/O/B Fairy tales) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Childbirth, Children, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Other, Sex, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetomegachild/pseuds/sweetomegachild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expecting a child is always an exciting and challenging time. Expecting a child as an loving Alpha-Omega couple is even more of an adventure. Good thing John and Sherlock like adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expecting the Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt at Sherlock BBC kink meme. I didn’t create the Omega-verse, but my theories/ideas are here.

Three days after his first true breeding session, John seemed to be constantly running to the loo between patients at the clinic and even his softest vest seemed liked sandpaper against his nipples. The doctor in John knew these might the very earliest signs of pregnancy, but the nervous Omega in John was too terrified to think/hope/dream this was true. Although he did find himself drifting into his own mind palace quite often during the day.

The rarest of rare things happened to John. He, a Class A Omega, had fallen in love. Love was purely the realm of Betas; Alphas and Omegas merely fell into chemically driven, procreation fueled relationships that bonded them and their offspring together for life, but rarely did emotion enter the equation. There were the epic, fanciful tales of Alpha/Omega love, but most Omegas learned early that their Alpha was never going to come galloping in on white horse to rescue them from forced, emotionless breeding.

Then John walked into a lab at St. Bart’s and found himself in the intense gaze of one Sherlock Holmes.

For the first weeks that John and Sherlock lived at 221B, they never really discussed their orientations trusting that Mike wouldn’t pair an Alpha and Omega as roommates. Each assumed that the other was a Beta.

Then John met Seb Wilkes.

When John went to pick up the payment from Wilkes, the other man casual asked about Sherlock’s mate. John had been confused until Wilkes explained that Sherlock was the only unmated Alpha at uni. Shocked, John had muttered something about Sherlock still being unmated and fled into the hall, where he had a small, but complete breakdown. That night John sat Sherlock down and told him they could no longer be roommates. In response, Sherlock brought a large black bag from his room. Out of it he pulled countless bottles and vials and patches and syringes and… and… and. John’s own Omega hormones were easily suppressed with a daily pill and yearly shot, but this medical regime was complex and intense.

John had heard of some experimental drugs to suppress the Alpha hormones, but he had no idea they actually worked. Sherlock had explained that as a teenager when he had his first Alpha hunt, he begged his father to get him into an experimental program that was working on a formula to suppress the Alpha hormones. It had taken years and many trail and errors, but finally a formula had been developed allowing him to live as a Beta just as John’s regime had done.

The two men continued rooming together, living the normal lives of Betas (even if chemically induced), having adventures, solving crimes, and growing steadily deeper in love.

Then Sherlock stepped off the roof of St. Bart’s.

For three years, John lived in misery watching the world move around him while he stayed locked in a moment on a pavement listening to his best friend, the love of his life telling him it had all been a lie. Somehow everything seemed to be happening on old decaying film, where the picture was fuzzy and the dialogue was muted by the crackle of static. He watched Greg and Mycroft growing closer through a shared sense of failure. He watched Molly grow cold and distance until she finally told him she was leaving Bart’s. He watched Mrs. Hudson fretting over him. He watched Ella trying to get him to talk. He watched it all with the cold detachment of an uninterested spectator.

Then he came home to find Sherlock standing in the foyer of 221B.

Apparently even chemically induced Betas had a bit of a wild sex drive, because while blood still dripped from the gash on Sherlock’s cheek from John’s precise, military blow, they shagged on the stairs, over the experiment stained kitchen table, and finally on the battered leather couch. For the next two days they stayed mostly wrapped in each other’s arms, curled in bed, on the couch or, memorably, in John’s chair. Unlike a typical heat, this was about love and connection. It was the most wonderful thing either man had even experienced. Before the year was out, Sherlock and John were once again chasing across London. If anyone noticed they now did this holding hands, no one cared. For six glorious months life was perfect.

Then Mycroft had appeared in the flat one morning.

Sherlock had taken one critical look at his brother and asked the typical question: Putting on weight, Mycroft? However this time Mycroft answered with a wistful desire as his hand cradle the swell of his stomach. John knew that Mycroft and Greg had grown close during Sherlock’s hiatus and were still close, but he could feel his jaw drop in shock that Mycroft was an Omega and that he had breed with Greg. As Sherlock gently closed his gaping mouth, John found himself agreeing to be Mycroft’s private physician through the pregnancy.

While Omega’s pregnancies were normally easy and didn’t need much medical intervention, Mycroft’s 30 plus years on breed suppression drugs meant added complications. Still each weekly visit and sonogram showed the fetus growing healthily and steadily. Of course, these weekly visit happened at Mycroft and Greg’s home, which was now shared with Greg’s two youngest, Annabelle and William, from his first coupling. Each week John and Sherlock were first shown the progress Greg had made on the nursery, then a pleasant meal (as long as Sherlock behaved), and finally John, Mycroft and Greg adjourned to the ‘birthing bedroom’ while Sherlock scampered off to work on some project for his soon to be niece or nephew with Anna and Will. As John completed his examinations he covertly watched the bonded couple. The lingering looks, longing touches and searing kisses that they shared were nothing like the cold, nearly sterile relationships that John had seen between AO couples at the clinic.

During one of their pubs nights, John asked about it and Greg had admitted that his relationship with Mycroft was nothing like the mating he’d had with his first partner, Linda. They had meant at uni when she’d been unfortunate enough to go into heat during a class. Greg had been able to resist just long enough to finish the class before he took her against the lecture podium. He then dragged her off to his dorm room, which they didn’t leave for a week. A month later, they had a bonding ceremony. Nine months later, they had their first of three children. When she was killed by a drunk driver several years back, Greg admitted he’d felt the sting of their connection severing, but frankly Sherlock’s ‘death’ had been harder emotionally. Greg confessed that the difference with his relationship to Mycroft was that they had cared deeply for each other long before Mycroft allowed Greg to be near him during a heat. After that first breed suppressed heat, they knew. They knew they needed to be bonded, they wanted to live together with Anna and Will, and they wanted a child together. Due to their ages, they needed to act quickly, so by Mycroft’s next heat the four of them were living in a new spacious penthouse and Mycroft was off the breed suppressing drugs. It took two heats for the drugs to be completely out of his system and the breeding finally happened during the third heat. Greg had never been so happy as he was watching Mycroft grow heavy with his child and Mycroft felt the same.

John felt a stirring within him that he hadn’t felt since his first and only heat at 15. Each examination, each time he saw Mycroft or Greg, the feeling grew. Somehow, he knew Sherlock was feeling the same. It was in the way Sherlock’s eyes examined Mycroft’s swelling belly, the way he spent more and more time with Anna and Will, the way he stayed inside John longer and longer after making love. John could almost feel Sherlock willing his chemically depleted knot to suddenly swell within John. And John would clench his inner walls a little tighter searching for the nonexistent knot.

It was during one such session that they got ‘the call.’ They’d hurried to the penthouse, John frantic with worry that they might not make it in time, but two hours later when no child had emerged it was clear that Mycroft fell into the majority of Omegas whose labour lasted as long as their heats. Still John felt ill at ease leaving, so he and Sherlock went back to 221B long enough to gather what they’d need for a week-long stay. Sherlock, surprisingly, proved helpful in getting the kids off to school, making basic food or ordering take-away. John would only leave Mycroft and Greg when the hormones because too much for the other men and Mycroft would tearfully beg Greg to couple him or Greg would forcefully grab Mycroft to fuck him. Precisely five days after his labour began, Mycroft pushed a beautiful baby girl, Isabella, into the world. After performing the needed tests, cleaning Bella, and handing her over to her elated parents, John dragged Sherlock to the nearest bathroom and ground his ass into Sherlock’s groin until he fucked John over the counter.

Then a month later after a visit with their youngest niece, Sherlock announced he wanted to breed John and John had cried with relief and desire.

Preparing John for breeding was easy. He stopped taking the pills and had another doctor at the clinic administer a hormone boosting shot. Preparing Sherlock was harder. He stopped taking the pills, but had to wean himself off the shots to not cause lasting damage. Even then, the scientist that developed the formula gave them no guarantees that Sherlock would ever be able to fully knot John, the vital last step in successful breeding. John’s first two heats made the two men despair. As the scientist said, Sherlock could not develop a knot, no matter how long or hard he tried. During the third heat, a small glimmer of hope sprung to life as John suddenly felt additional fullness after Sherlock had cum. The knot wasn’t large enough to bond them together or even seal John, but it was there. Finally, during John’s fourth heat, starting two days after the huge first birthday party for Bella, Sherlock’s knot developed so fully that John had cum twice more during their bond just from the feeling of fullness.

That first true knot had happened eight days before and while it was early, John’s hand kept drifting to his midsection, which felt fuller than it had nine days before.

A short knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. Calling out for his patient to enter, John gathered himself and focused on what would make Mrs. Ledderbetter feel better today. For three hours and seven patients, John focused solely on his doctoral duties. After filling out his last patient file, John made his way to the office of the colleague who had given him the hormone boosting shot. Within minutes the blood had been drawn and John and Richard were arguing friendly about Arsenal versus Chelsea.

Then the computer pinged with the results.

~*~*~*~*~

As John was sitting in the cab on the way to Angelo’s, his mobile buzzed with a text from Sherlock.

**Running late. Took A, W, & B to zoo. B so fascinated with penguins, we lost track of time. If hungry, eat without me. It is important for you. X-SH**

John smiled. This would work perfectly.

Angelo greeted John as enthusiastically as always, “Doctor Watson, how good to see you! Your dinner will be ready in a moment.”

“Thanks, Angelo,” John shook the older man’s hand. “Could you do me an extra favor? Could you throw a tablecloth and candle in with our dinner? I’ll get them back to you by the weekend.”

“Of course! A special occasion?”

John smiled slyly, “Hopefully.”

Within minutes John was on his way back to 221B with a special meal and accessories. By the time John heard Sherlock’s footfalls thundering up the stairs, the kitchen table was covered by a red and white gingham tablecloth, the pasta was plated, and the candle was lit. 

“John, you should have seen Bella at the zoo. She was mimicking the penguins down to perf...” Sherlock trailed off as he entered the kitchen. Looking between the table and John, Sherlock’s eyes narrowed as he deduced exactly what John had found out. Two long stride and Sherlock had crossed the kitchen and framed John’s face with his long slender fingers. “You saw 15 patients today; five cases of flu, four arthritic flare-ups, three physicals, two sprains, and a hypochondriac. You ate lunch with Sarah and one of the nurses. At the end of the day, you saw Richard.”

Settling his hands on Sherlock’s hips, John lifted up on his toes and pecked Sherlock’s lips, “Correct and amazing as always. Go on, tell me what he said.”

Sherlock shook his head, “Not this. This I want to hear you say.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Almost before John finished, Sherlock had swooped down to claim his mouth in a searing kiss. When they parted, they were panting heavily and clothes were rumbled from roaming hands. 

John smiled at his lover and now his seeder, “I need to eat, for the baby, but then I want you to take me upstairs and make love to me.”

Sherlock traced his fingers along John’s forehead, cheeks and jaw, “Is it safe for the baby?”

“Bella’s fine, isn’t she? I can assure you that according Greg, he and Mycroft never abstained during her gestation.”

“Ugh, John,” Sherlock pulled away with a disgusted shiver. “I never needed to know that.”

John laughed and pushed Sherlock into one of the kitchen chairs.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning John was woken by the weight of Sherlock’s head on his chest and Sherlock’s fingers trailing along his lower abdomen. Carding his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, John sighed, “Morning, love.”

“Do you want a boy or a girl,” Sherlock asked without preamble.

“Healthy. That is all I want.”

Sherlock’s hand covered John’s stomach as he turned his head to look up at the doctor, “Liar. All parents say that because they think it is the proper thing to say, but you have a preference.”

John sighed, then smiled, “Alright, yes. I adore Anna and Bella, but I’d love a little boy with your dark curls and my blue eyes. Someone I can play football with like Greg and Will. Someone sturdy who will be fascinated by your experiments, the grosser the better.”

“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Sherlock rolled his head to again study John’s stomach. “I think it would be better to have a boy first.”

“Oi, wait a second. Let’s have this child before we plan for the next. Okay?”

Raising his hand just enough to wave it in dismissal, Sherlock ignore the question and asked one of his own, “You were quite wet last night. Was that just residual from the heat or a side-effect of the pregnancy?”

John smiled, “From my research, it is a side-effect. I’ll stay fairly lubricated until the birth.”

Sherlock sat up interested, “What else have you discovered in your research?”

“Well,” John sat up to lean against the headboard, “things should go much like with Mycroft. I’ve already started to experience the earliest symptoms such as needing to piss more frequently, tender nipples...”

“Really,” Sherlock interrupted with a smirk.

“Oi, don’t give me none of that. You noticed and took full advantage of that last night.”

Sherlock curled closer to John, “You didn’t seem to mind.”

“Not yet, might at some point, though,” John slipped his arm around Sherlock.

“I’ll be mindful in future.”

“I know, love,” John kissed his temple. “I’ve also noticed that I haven’t regained my energy from the heat, I’m slightly short of breath and last night at Angelo’s I noticed that something smelled so badly I thought I might be sick for a minute.”

Sherlock nodded, “When do you want to tell people?”

“Mmm... I’d rather like to keep this between us for the time being. Everyone will know soon enough, but...” John trailed off with a shrug.

“Even Mycroft and Lestrade? They told us very soon.”

“Yes, but that was because Mycroft wanted me to be his doctor. I’ve got Richard. We’ll tell them and the kids first, but I just... just want it for us right now.”

Sherlock looked a bit uncertain.

John kissed him lightly, “This isn’t like the... the... the faking... then. Mycroft and Greg will understand us keeping this secret for awhile. Promise.”

“Alright.” Sherlock nodded, before smiling up wickedly at John, “Feel like celebrating again this morning?”

“Thought you’d never bloody ask,” John slid down as he pulled Sherlock on top of him.

~*~*~*~*~

John stood, astonished, in the doorway of what was once Sherlock’s bedroom and had slowly been transformed into a laboratory. He’d been nervous, slightly terrified about discussing removing the the lab equipment and turning the room into a nursery, but currently Sherlock was in the room carefully packing papers and beakers into cardboard boxes.

“What you doin’, love?”

Sherlock jumped slightly at the sound of John’s voice, “John, you weren’t supposed to be home until this evening. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing... Well, something, but nothing with me or the baby. Outbreak of German measles, so in my condition I can’t be in the surgery for a few days or a week,” John explained moving into the room.

Sherlock looked at him critically, “You told Sarah before Mycroft and Lestrade?”

“I didn’t tell her about the baby, just that I needed a few days off. Richard will let me know when the danger has passed and I can go back. In the meantime, Sarah’s blaming you for the loss of one of her locums during an epidemic.”

“Text you about an important case, did I?”

John smiled, “Dangerous, too.”

Sherlock smiled back.

“So, what are you doing?”

Sherlock scratched the back of his head, “Ah, well, it was supposed to be a surprise. I talked to Mrs. Hudson and she agreed to rent me the rest of the attic to turn into a lab, so we could turn this into the nursery.”

“Oi, you just got upset at me for telling Sarah and you told Mrs. Hudson,” John crossed his arms.

“Not exactly. I told her that you wanted the space for Mycroft and Lestrade’s brood, if we need to watch them. And you didn’t want the chemicals in the flat with children coming around more frequently. She actually asked if we had a row about it two months ago.”

John laughed and blushed, “Ah, the heat did get a little vocal.”

Sherlock laughed as well.

“Do you want help or do you want to do this alone,” John indicated the room with a wave of his hand.

“Ah, I... Um...,” Sherlock looked around the room frantically. “I’m not sure what things in here might be... dangerous. Let me get the chemicals and experiments out and then you can help with the papers and case files.”

John smiled softly, “Okay. Thank you for doing this. I... I... ah, thought we might have a row about getting this room cleaned out.”

Sherlock looked up sharply, “John, I might... I don’t... I’m not the best partner and I’m sure I’ll be a lousy father, but I do want to do the best I can for you and our child.”

“And that will guarantee that you won’t be a lousy father,” John swooped in and kissed Sherlock. “You keep working and I’m going to go look up nursery themes.”

“I do not want something pedantic that will lower our child’s intelligence by being surrounded by it.”

“Got it. No dinosaurs.” 

Sherlock’s laughter followed him into the living room.

John pulled out his laptop and settled onto the couch. Pulling up the internet, John did an image search for nursery themes. For the next hour or so, John saved various pictures of nurseries as he listened to Sherlock banging around in the adjoining room. John was just beginning to sort through the saved pictures when Sherlock flounced into the room and draped himself across the couch and John.

John kissed the top of his dark curls, “Done?”

“Nearly,” Sherlock settled a little more into the couch, turning to see the laptop screen. He didn’t speak from several long minutes. Finally, “John?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you really think I won’t be a lousy father?”

“Course not. You are a good uncle, a wonderful partner, since I forgot to mention that earlier, and will be an even better father,” John assured him without looking away from the computer.

“What if my work prevents me from bonding with our child,” Sherlock asked quietly and unsure.

John closed the laptop and nudged Sherlock so he would sit up and they could face each other, “What’s brought this on?”

“Lestrade.” At John’s confused look, Sherlock continued, “I took him the information for the Henderson case today. When I got to the Yard, he was on the phone arguing with someone about Bella. Turned out be his oldest son, Charles.”

“Ah,” John suddenly understood. “Sherlock, you can’t compare your relationship to our child to Greg’s relationship to Charlie. Greg was 20, in uni and barely knew his mate when Charlie was born. By the time Will and Anna were born, he was established in the Yard and had better sorted out his relationship with Linda.”

“I did research, too, John. Eldest AO children have strong relationships with the Omega, but barely existent relationships with the Alpha. Your parents were Betas, so you never saw a difference between the way they treated you and Harry. I, however, grew up with a distant father, who was nearly hostile towards Mycroft. John, Alphas don’t bond outside their mates.”

“Don’t give me that shite, Sherlock,” John grabbed him by shoulders. “Sure, Greg’s relationship with Charlie isn’t great, but he loves Will, Anna and Bella. And look at you. You adore those kids. As for our child, you’re already giving up your lab for him or her. You are going to bond with this baby and it is going to adore you. Not stop moping and help me pick out the bloody nursery theme.”

“I love it when you use your Captain's voice, John Watson.”

“Good,” John smacked a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead and opened the laptop.

~*~*~*~*~

John sighed in relief as Sherlock laid a cool, hand on his forehead and rubbed his back. The morning sickness had gotten worse as John neared the end of his first trimester, but Richard assured him that everything was progressing nicely. Sherlock had been surprisingly sympathetic and helpful through the whole process. He rubbed John’s back, used a facecloth on his neck and forehead, and always made sure there was water for John to rinse his mouth out. 

Finally done, John slid back onto his haunches and leaned against the tub as he accepted the water from Sherlock.

“Better,” Sherlock asked smoothing hair away from John’s forehead.

John spit out the water, “I’ll be better when I don’t end every morning needing to throw up, but yes a bit better. Thank you.”

“Maybe we should cancel this afternoon?”

“No,” John pulled Sherlock down to sit next to him. “We promised Will and Anna we’d be at their recital and lunch after will be the perfect time to tell everyone about the baby.”

“You’re sure,” Sherlock asked slightly hesitantly. “You aren’t at 12 weeks yet.”

“No, only 11 weeks and 4 days. Of course, I’m sure. Richard said that things are looking textbook good. Come on, what’s up? You wanted to tell the world the night I found out. Why don’t you want to tell the family?”

Sherlock ducked his head, “You were right, I’ve enjoyed having this secret with you.”

“Aw, love,” John pulled him against his body and kissed his temple. “We’ll have more secrets, but we’ve got to share this one soon or everyone will guess. These are my biggest trousers and I can’t get them buttoned anymore.”

“Oh, I forgot,” Sherlock scrambled to his feet and out of the bathroom.

When it was evident he wasn’t coming straight back, John got up (not nearly as easily or gracefully as Sherlock) and brushed his teeth. Just as he spat the last of the toothpaste out, Sherlock returned and presented, with great flourish, what seemed to be a button with an elastic loop attached.

“Ah, thank you.” John took it from Sherlock’s outstretched hand, “What is it?”

“It is to extend your zip button.” Sherlock took it back and pushed up John’s jumper. As he spoke he installed the device, “You slip the button into your buttonhole, then slip the loop over the trouser button. It will give you up to two inches of extra room while keeping your flies up. I solved a case years ago, cause a twin was using it to fit in his smaller twins clothes.”

“Oh, ta, love, that is brilliant. I can actually breathe now,” John took a deep breath as proof.

“Normally, your belt would cover it, but your jumper comes down low enough,” Sherlock smoothed down John’s jumper ending with a caress to the small bump below John’s waistline.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock waist, “You’re going to need to show me how to use this again.”

“We’re going to be late for the recital,” Sherlock warned.

“Will and Anna go on towards the end. Mycroft and Greg will understand when we tell them the news,” John backed Sherlock out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom.

~*~*~*~*~

“Uncle Sherlock,” Will came barreling down the school hall aisle, every cell in his nine year old body vibrating with excitement. “Didcha hear? Didcha hear me? Was it okay?”

Sherlock easily caught the boy and swung him up in the air, “Of course I heard you. It was perfect. I couldn’t have played it better.”

Will’s smile could have lit the London Eye as his arms wrapped around Sherlock’s neck, “Thank you for teaching me the piece. My violin teacher was really impressed.”

“I just hope I never hear it again,” Anna complained in typical teenage annoyance as she joined the group. “He’s played it so much, I’m hearing it in my sleep.”

Greg laughed as he wrapped an arm around his eldest daughter’s shoulders, “Yes, and we all don’t know all the words to ‘Fast Car’ after listening to you practicing for weeks.”

Anna blushed and hid behind her long dark hair.

“Don’t listen to Daddy, sweetheart. He’s just teasing,” Mycroft adjusted Bella in his arms so could reach over and brush her hair back behind her ear.

Charlie, Greg’s oldest who Sherlock and John has been surprised to see at the school recital, rolled his eyes, “Anna, Will, ready to go get lunch?”

Anna now did look up, confused, “I thought we all were going to lunch together.”

“Well, I thought it would be nice for the three of us to go together, while Father went with Mycroft and his family.”

“Charlie,” Greg started, but was interrupted by Will.

“This is our family, Charlie, and I want to go lunch with Daddy, Papa, Uncle Sherlock and Uncle John.”

Charlie sighed, “Anna?”

“I’d rather you come with all of us, but if you insist I’ll go with you,” Anna bit her lip and flashed the Holmes an apologetic look.

“Fine,” Charlie shook his head, “we’ll all go. Its your big lunch after all.”

Mycroft smiled his non-creepy, family-only smile, “Thank you, Charles. It will be wonderful spending time together as a family. Would you mind taking Bella while I go arrange the car?”

“No,” Charlie’s hands went up in a defensive position. “As I explained to Father, I’m here for my brother and sister. Not to bond with some mid-life seeding crisis offspring and it’s weird carrier.”

“Charles Henry Lestrade, apologize at once,” Greg bellowed rounding to look at his son.

Charlie just calmly shook his head, “No. As I explained on the phone I want nothing to do with your false bond mate or your late breed offspring.”

Everyone gasped, but Charlie wasn’t finished.

“It isn’t right and it isn’t natural. A true Alpha and a true Omega don’t bond in their 40’s and they certainly don’t breed for the first time in their 40’s.”

There was a shocked silence for a moment until John rounded on the younger, taller man, “Listen here, you ungrateful little Class C Beta. No, don’t deny it. I could smell the Alpha and Class A Beta all over you when you came in. Just because you are destined to live a childless life, don’t you dare come here acting all higher and mightier than your father and his rightfully bonded mate. Some of us Omegas, like Mycroft, like myself, thought that we had more important things to do than bond with some possessive Alpha and live our lives churning out children. Sure, it took us a long time, but we finally found Alphas that love us and realized how wonderful the bonding could be and wanted to feel the fullness of the bond within our body and in our arms.”

As John finished his rant, his hand drifted to the small hidden bump and leaned over to kiss Bella’s head.

“My god,” Charlie stared at the doctor, then looked at his father. “You... you... you’ve bonded with this freak show of a family. Omegas in their 40’s having first breeds! I’m done. I’m out. Enjoy your life.” With that Charlie turned on his heels and marched out of the hall.

Greg just stared after him, the arm around his daughter tightening.

“Greg, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think,” John trailed off as his emotions caught in his throat.

Sherlock lowered Will to the ground and moved up behind John. He wrapped his arms around the trembling doctor, his hand linking with John’s over the bump. He buried his nose in John’s hair and kissed the back of his head, whispering, “It’s alright.”

“Sherlock’s right, John. It is alright. Charlie’s been looking for something to break his bond with me, since his mother died. I understand, we’ve barely had a bond to begin with.”

Mycroft moved closer to his mate and pulled him into his free arm. Will scampered to his father as well, wrapping his arms around Greg’s torso; as Anna reached forward to lay her hand on Bella’s back, thus creating a small, quiet family circle of support and love. They stayed that way for several long minutes, Sherlock and John watching over them.

“Uncle John,” Anna suddenly raised her head, breaking the stillness on the circle. “Charlie said, ‘Omegas in their 40’s having their first breeds.’ Are you having a baby?”

Despite the last few minutes, John couldn’t fight the smile spreading across his face, “Yes, Anna, Sherlock and I are having a baby.”

Anna squealed and launched herself at her uncles with Will following closely behind. Even Bella bounced in her father’s arms, clapping and chanting, “Baby.”

Sherlock and John caught the kids, laughter bubbling up and spilling out of their throats. Anna and Will tossed a million questions out so quickly that they couldn’t even understand the words, so they only hugged them closer and laughed louder. Over the top of their heads, the four adults shared knowing looks and smiles.

“Okay, okay. Let your uncles breathe, kids,” Greg gently pulled the kids away, then pulled John into a quick manly hug. “So, when were you going to tell us?”

“Today, actually. Just not so dramatically,” John admitted, sheepishly.

Mycroft moved forward, “Well, personally, I’ve always enjoy a bit of the dramatic.”

“We all know, brother. Kidnapping John and Lestrade demonstrates that quite well,” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Mycroft tutted at his brother and ignored him for asking John, “You’re about twelve weeks, if you’re comfortable with the family knowing?”

John nodded, “Few days short, but my doctor is very pleased with my progress, so we thought it was time for you to know.”

“Well, can we go to lunch to celebrate the news and Anna and Will’s accomplishments in the recital? My mate needs to feed the babe and this one looks hungry,” Sherlock plucked Bella from Mycroft’s arms and turned to exit the hall, the two other children trailing behind.

“Well,” Greg laughed, “guess we are going to lunch. Anyplace you’d prefer, John?”

John placed a hand on his stomach, “Anything but a curry. Learned the hard way that the baby doesn’t like it.”

“Oddly, Bella craved it and I can’t stand it myself. Never ate as much curry as when I was expecting her,” Mycroft laid a hand on his shoulder as they started to follow the others. “Amazing that before they are even born there are very few things that we won’t sacrifice for them.” 

John smiled softly in agreement.

~*~*~*~*~

After telling the Lestrade-Holmes side of the family, John knew he needed to tell Harry before telling Mrs. Hudson, Sarah and others at work. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to whatever his Beta sister had to say about her impending Aunt-hood, but he also didn’t want her to not be aware of what was happening. It had taken three days of playing phone tag and getting the runaround about meeting, before he just finally sent her a text.

**S and I mated. I’m expecting a baby in 7 months. Please let me know if you care. - JW**

It was three weeks before he received a reply.

**Congrats. Let me know what you have and I’ll buy something appropriate. I’m NOT available for babysitting.**

John had actually snorted at that. Then he deleted the message and most of his relationship with her.

Telling Mrs. Hudson had gone slightly differently. After first staring at them for a few seconds in seeming incomprehension, she promptly burst into tears. She hugged both of them so hard that John worried for a moment that she was going to damage herself. The amount of food, advice and concern that came up the stairs from 221A in the days following the announcement was staggering. She had calmed down since, but she still pressed some sort of pie into his hands at least once a week as he came home from the surgery and spent a little extra time each week cleaning 221B.

The hardest person for John to tell was Sarah. After their failed attempt at a relationship they had made a slow transition to friendship, but John still tried to avoid talking to her about his relationship with Sherlock. He’d also conveniently never told Sarah that he wasn’t the Class A Beta that he let her believe him to be, so he knew that she believed Sherlock to be a Class B or C Beta. Which made the conversation even more difficult. Sarah had listened quietly and intently to John. When he finished she’d congratulated and asked him how long he thought he would need on maternity. They hadn’t discussed it or anything not associated with the surgery since.

Still, laying in bed at night watching Sherlock measure his growing bump or sitting on the couch listening to him read from baby books or waking up to him talking to their child; John realized he didn’t really care what anyone besides Sherlock thought.

~*~*~*~*~

John knocked gently on the doorframe to the attic gaining Sherlock’s attention, “Did you sleep?”

“Ah, John, no. I’ve had a breakthrough on the Kendrick case. I needed to run an experiment before I presented it to Lestrade.”

John nodded, knowingly, “Do you think you’ll be awake enough to meet me at the surgery at the end of my shift?”

“Of course, but why? You’ve been getting yourself home safely for years,” Sherlock turned from the experiment to study John.

“Yes, but Richard wants to do a scan today and this will be the first that the baby will look like more than a white glob. Thought you might be interested.”

Sherlock smiled, “You want me at a scan?”

“Of course, love, it is your baby, too,” John gave Sherlock a soft ‘you idiot’ look. “Be there at 5:30?”

“I’ll be there,” Sherlock crossed to the door and kissed John, then dropped to his knees and kissed the bump as well.

~*~*~*~*~

At 17:25 John was leading Mr. Jansen from his surgery as he gently explained that he needed to take all his pills, not just the ones he thought worked. Entering the reception area John smiled as he noticed Sherlock talking with one of the receptionist that John didn’t really like all that well. It was clear from her face that Sherlock was deducing something rather unpleasant about her personal life. Handing Mr. Jansen off to his home health care worker, John made his way over the reception desk.

“John,” Sherlock turned from the woman and wrapped his arm around John before bending to kiss him.

John smiled into the kiss and the rare public display of affection, “Hullo. Have a good day?”

“Yes. The experiment proved successful and Lestrade arrested Dillion Kendrik’s killer today.”

“Good,” John took advantage of Sherlock’s arm still being around him and reached up to kiss Sherlock once more. “Come on back, Richard should be ready for us in a few minutes.”

Sherlock took John’s hand and let him lead them back to John’s office.

When they got to the office, John stared at Sherlock, “Okay, what was that about?”

“What? Can’t I be affectionate towards my mate?”

“Of course, love, but you aren’t usually this affectionate and never in public. Just making sure everything is okay,” John brushed a lock of hair from Sherlock’s forehead.

Sherlock dropped his forehead to John’s, “I realized that I missed you last night. I may not always sleep, but I enjoy laying next to you in bed at night. Plus, that Heather creature out there is interested in you and I do not like it.”

“You’re going all Alpha on me, huh,” John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist.

“It is your fault. Your Omega scent has gotten so strong that your Beta wash doesn’t begin to cover it. Of course, I’ve become more aggressively Alpha.”

“God, these hormones are ridiculous. I find that actually sexy. Come on, Richard really is ready for us,” John smiled softly and headed for the other office. Sherlock’s hand nestled in his own.

At John’s knock a muffled, “Come on in, John,” came from inside the room and the couple entered.

“Hey, Richard, you remember my... my mate,” John blushed and flashed Sherlock a pleased look, “Sherlock? Hope it is okay, but I wanted him to be here for the scan today.”

Richard stood, and kept standing his tall frame even towering over Sherlock, from his desk, “Course, nice to see you again, Sherlock. Even nicer to see an Alpha take an interest in his Omega and child.”

“Sherlock’s been wonderful. He’s painted the nursery already,” John praised his partner like a typical gushing Omega, before he cleared his throat sure Sherlock wouldn’t want that information known.

Sherlock huffed, “It wasn’t that hard painting walls yellow.”

Richard laughed softly at the couple, “Still, most Alphas can’t be bothered. John, why don’t you get ready and hop up on the table.”

While Richard turned to start the sonogram equipment, John undid his trousers and pushed trousers and pants down below the expanding bump, then laid on the exam table and pulled his jumper up to his chest. Holding out his hand, he directed Sherlock to his side and took Sherlock’s hand.

Having warmed up the machine and prepped the wand, Richard swiveled on his stool to get closer to John. Suddenly Sherlock growled and lurched to possessively cover John.

“Sherlock!” John exclaimed and Richard quickly back away.

“Oh, ah, yes,” Sherlock straightened and stammered for a moment. “As I was explaining to John a few moments ago, apparently some of the more possessive and aggressive Alpha tendencies have been brought out in me since our mating. Proceed, I won’t react in such a manner again.”

“Sorry, Richard,” John smiled at the other doctor, before turning to Sherlock. “Come here, you.” He pulled Sherlock down and briefly kissed him, “A little is sexy, too much is annoying. Got it?”

Sherlock nodded and took John’s hand again, but this time he positioned himself a little further up towards John head.

Richard took a deep breath, “Okay, let’s try this again. This is your 16 week scan, so we can try to determine gender, but it may not be definitive yet.”

“No,” John shook his head. “Right now, we still want to wait. If we decided to learn the gender prenatal, we’ll wait till things are a little more developed.”

Richard nodded and applied the conductive gel, earning a hiss of reaction to the cold from John. It took a few moments of moving the wand around while staring at the screen facing him, before Richard smiled having found the right spot. He hit a button and the room filled with a whooshing sound.

“Is that...,” Sherlock trailed off, listening.

John squeezed his hand gently, “Our child’s heartbeat.”

“And this is your child,” Richard turned the screen towards the parents. 

They stared in utter amazement at the clear face and body outlined on the screen. An arm moved and both men gasped. 

“Sherlock,” Richard spoke barely above a whisper, “if you hold the wand right where it is, you and John can watch your baby for awhile and I’ll go do... something that isn’t right here.”

Sherlock eagerly took control of the wand, his eyes not moving from the screen. Neither men moved or spoke for several moments, before Sherlock suddenly let out a partial sob. John raised their joined hands to his mouth and kissed Sherlock’s knuckles one-by-one. They watched for a few more moments until John reached over to hit a button to freeze the screen.

“Richard can email us that picture now, if you like,” John explained.

Sherlock’s voice was tight and raspy, “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

John smiled as he grabbed tissue to wipe the gel off. Before he could do it, Sherlock took the tissues and gently cleaned off John’s stomach, “Does Richard need to examine you?”

“No, I’m sure he’ll get all the information needs from the video and report. There really nothing to worry about, right now. Things are good.”

Sherlock’s fingers ghosted over the image on the screen, “For which I will be eternally grateful.” 

~*~*~*~*~

“Fuck,” John threw the small zip button extender across the bedroom. When it didn’t make a satisfyingly enough noise, he picked up one of the bottles on the dresser and threw it as well. That made a satisfying clatter, but it only made him feel momentarily better as he sank to the bed.

Sherlock ran into the bedroom, “John, are you alright? I was upstairs and heard screaming and something crash.”

“Yeah,” John didn’t look up him, “I just dropped something.”

“Against the wall?”

“Yes, I dropped it against the wall, okay! Just leave me alone, Sherlock,” John dropped down to lie on the bed and curled away from Sherlock. There were a few moments silence before John heard Sherlock moving and thought he was leaving the room until he felt Sherlock’s long fingers in his hair.

“Your trousers don’t button anymore, even with the extender,” Sherlock whispered.

John just sniffled.

Sherlock laid behind John, but didn’t touch him, “You’ve never been very body conscious, but as a soldier you’ve always been careful to control your weight and physique. Now, there is this thing in you that is changing your body. Your Omega hormones make you feel that you should enjoy every moment, but you lived so many years thinking that you would never experience this that there are things happening to your body that feel alien and wrong. My own Alpha hormones are filling me with the desire to see your stomach grow gravid with my child and your hips widen in preparation for the birth. They make me want your body to show everyone that you are my mate, my bond, that you belong to me. But my years living as a chemically induced Beta and the formation of our relationship make me want something else. They want the world to see your expanding stomach as an expression of what I feel for you, what you feel for me. More than people seeing an Omega filled with an Alpha’s seed, I want them to see a man filled with the child of his lover. I know that people won’t see that, but I do. When I look at your increased size, I see our love.”

By the time Sherlock finished, John was sobbing.

“Sorry, I suppose that was a bit not good,” Sherlock started to shift of the bed.

Before he could go far, John had wrapped himself around Sherlock, “Not a bit not good. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” 

~*~*~*~*~

John stood next to Greg as Sherlock was engrossed in examining some speck of evidence that no one else had considered important. At first they had been content to just watch Sherlock, but as it became evident the other man wasn’t even aware of their presence they started chatting. With the Yarders, who were not aware of John’s condition since his baggy jumpers still hid the bump, out of the room, Greg had asked about the pregnancy and thanked John for the sonogram picture.

“You realize that Anna printed it out and hung it the kitchen, right?”

“That’s okay, Sherlock used it for all of our wallpapers,” John pulled out his phone as proof.

Greg laughed softly, “Can’t blame him really. You find out the gender?”

John shook his head, “We want to wait. Sherlock’s treating it like a great case and will probably figure it out before long, but I want to be surprised.”

“Well, if you need help with names Anna and Will are both composing lists. Will is in charge of boy names and Anna and Bella are working on the girls.”

“Bella,” John asked with a laugh.

“Well, honestly, her contribution has been mostly Pooh, Pigcat...”

“Pigcat?”

Greg shrugged, “Her version of Piglet, apparently. She also likes Baby and Ella, since she still isn’t saying the B.”

John smiled, “Have the kids started calling her Ella, yet?”

“Yeah,” Greg laughed, “Myc is mortified. He begrudgingly calls Will and Anna by their nicknames, but is still upset I insisted that Isabella get shortened to Bella. The fact that her nickname now has a nickname is driving him bonkers.”

“I was shocked when Mycroft called them by their nicknames frankly. Never thought he’d stoop so low.”

“That was Anna, actually. For months after I finally introduced them to Myc, he did call them Annabella and William. One night we were watching a movie all together and Myc wrapped an arm around Anna’s shoulders. She burst into tears. She thought that he didn’t like her or Will, since he called them by their full names and wasn’t very touchy.” Greg smiled wistfully, “He’s called them Will and Anna and been much more demonstrative, since then.”

John nodded, “He’s great with them.”

“Amazing the difference a few years make. He almost passed out the first time I even suggested him meeting them. Thought perhaps it would be best to wait until they were about... oh, maybe 40. Said he was no good with children. Then last night I came home to find Myc sitting on the floor helping Will make a diorama, while Anna was using his legs as a pillow and Bella was using him as a climbing frame.”

John laughed at the image that Greg painted, then suddenly gasped. His hands flew to his stomach.

“John, are you okay,” Greg turned worried eyes to John.

John nodded, but stayed quiet and closed his eyes. After a moment, his mouth widened into a grin.

“You just felt the baby for the first time, didn’t you?”

John looked up at Greg, “Think I might have felt it a couple of other times, but wasn’t sure. This time it was definitely the baby.”

Greg smiled and moved a little closer to John, “Be prepared, when you tell Sherlock he’s going to be all over you. At least I was with Linda when she was expecting Anna and Will and Myc with Bella. Wanted to feel it for myself.”

“Oh, and that will be so different than things now,” John smiled. “He’s consistently touching and measuring my belly.”

“Trust me, it will get worst.”

John rolled his eyes, “Maybe I’ll wait to tell him, until he’s solved this case.”

As if he’d been summoned, Sherlock moved away from the crime scene, “Lestrade, I need to see the body again. John and I are going to Bart’s morgue.”

With that he flounced out, expecting John to follow, which he did. Greg gave him a smile and wave as they left the room.

~*~*~*~*~

Greg had been right. The second John told Sherlock that he could feel the baby, Sherlock had pretty much attached himself to John. Sherlock mostly wanted to curl up in bed or on the couch and wait until the baby kicked hard enough for him to it feel as well. As much as John enjoyed the attention, by the fourth day John was ready for Sherlock to get a case other than the ‘Case of the Kicking Baby.’

“Sherlock, please,” John pulled away from this mate. “I need to cook dinner and I can not do that with your hand plastered to my stomach.”

“We’ll order take-away,” Sherlock dismissed as he moved to follow John.

John backed up further, “No, stop it! I love you and I love that you want to be involved, but you won’t be able to feel anything for another couple of weeks.”

“Maybe normal people wouldn’t be able to feel it, but I’ve been cataloguing your growth for the entire pregnancy.”

“In this you are NORMAL, Sherlock. Yes, you’ve been cataloguing my bump. And isn’t that just sweet and romantic of you? But, there are layers of muscle and fat and skin between my womb and your hand. When I can barely feel something inside me move, there is no fucking way that you’ll feel it,” John was screaming at the top of his lungs by the end of his rant.

Sherlock just stared at John for several long moments, “I thought you understood that for me that is sweet and romantic. I thought you understood that the only way I have of showing my bond... my love for you and our... our... baby was through science and observation. Since I was mistaken, as I rarely am; we may as well now take our traditional Alpha and Omega roles.”

“Sherlock,” John started, but Sherlock had already turned and grabbed his coat as he left the apartment.

John didn’t bother with dinner, instead curled up crying in Sherlock’s chair as he sent a storm of texts to Sherlock’s mobile. None were returned.

Two days later, Sherlock returned home explaining that their bond was too strong for him to stay away, but he’d keep his hands to himself.

The next two weeks they lived more distantly and coolly than they had the first days of being flatmates. John knew if it continued, he’d live just long enough to deliver the child into the world.

~*~*~*~*~

“This is fucking ridiculous,” John growled as Sherlock laid on the edge of the bed.

“What?”

“You haven’t touched me in two fucking weeks. This is only the third time in these two weeks you’ve come to bed.”

Sherlock looked at John sharply, “If you remember, you informed me that it was your body and that my hands needed to keep off it.”

“Aw, love,” John rolled toward Sherlock, “I was upset and antsy. I didn’t mean for you to never touch me. I love when you touch me. I love when you hold and rub my belly. I want you to feel your child moving.”

“John, I don’t want to upset you. I just don’t know what you want from me,” Sherlock sobbed.

John reached over and softly stroked along Sherlock’s breastbone, “I want you. I want you driving me crazy touching me. I want you involved in this pregnancy. I want you to love me and the baby so much that you turn that laser focus on us. I want you to listen to me and respect me. Mostly, I want you to hold me and love me.”

“I’m going to make you mad at me at some point.”

“Of course, you are and I am, too. That is part of being in a relationship.”

“I don’t like that part,” Sherlock stated plainly.

John moved even closer to Sherlock, “Neither do I. Know what part I do like?”

“From the scent coming off you, I believe that would be the commonly known ‘make up sex.’”

“From the scent coming off you, I believe you wouldn’t mind indulging me.”

Sherlock growled, rolling and pining John to the mattress, “Two weeks smelling your Omega scent, watching you expand with our child, and not touching you. Better bloody believe I want to indulge you.”

John pulled Sherlock down into a bruising kiss. Hands frantically pushed at pyjamas. Bedding, pillows and coverlet were all pushed from the bed as they scrambled to get closer to each other. Lips and hands roamed over exposed, goose-pimpled flesh. Settling between John’s legs, Sherlock gently raised them to wrap around his hips. Sherlock worked a hand between them, but since John’s body was preparing for birth there was very little need for preparation. Slowly, Sherlock slid into John.

“Oh, god,” John cried out, his hands clinging to Sherlock’s shoulder.

They moved together, exchanging long languid kisses. As their movements became more frantic, John arched up, the convex curve of John’s stomach pressed into Sherlock’s nearly concave stomach.

Suddenly Sherlock froze and then pressed his body slightly harder against John. “Oh... Oh... I... John, John, I can feel the baby moving,” Sherlock huffed, as his hand drifted down.

John bit his lip, “The baby’s excited that Papa’s finally getting a leg over, so Daddy better not stop.”

“Of course not,” Sherlock snapped his hips to prove his point. “John, that feels amazing.”

John pulled Sherlock closer, taking more of his weight and pressing them further into the mattress.

“Don’t hurt yourself or the baby,” Sherlock warned, but still pressed against his mate.

“It won’t,” John whispered. “Come on, Sherlock, fuck me. Claim me, remind me that I’m your Omega and it is your powerful Alpha seed that put this child in me.”

Sherlock growled and started pounding into John. John pulled his legs up further and wrapped them tightly around Sherlock’s waist. Sherlock found John’s hands, linked their fingers together and brought them up to grip the wooden slats of the headboard. Before long the friction between Sherlock’s body and the bottom of his belly became too much; John’s smaller Omega cock twitched and filled more before erupting over Sherlock’s flat stomach. 

As John orgasmed, he let out a long, low moan and pulled Sherlock closer with his legs.

Sherlock kept pistoning into John’s warm, wet, tight cavern for several long minutes loving the feel of John’s cum cooling on his stomach and John’s legs tight around his waist. Suddenly began moving frantically, trying to pull away from John while simultaneously trying to sink deeper into him. “John, John, help. I’m going to knot.”

“Mmm, love, I can feel it,” John sighed, pleased.

“I don’t want to knot in you and hurt you.”

“You won’t,” John rose up, taking Sherlock to the hilt and used his inner walls to squeeze. Almost instantly, Sherlock began to expand, knotting within John.

Sherlock looked panicked, “John!”

“It’s alright,” John pulled Sherlock into a quick, but thorough kiss. “I researched it, love. You can stay in me all night without causing a problem for me or the baby. And that is exactly what I want.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for you... both,” Sherlock vowed.

Carefully, they moved until Sherlock was spooned behind John, his hand splayed on John’s belly feeling their child slowly quiet.

“I’ll try not to smother you, but I want to feel this more. I need to feel this more.”

John covered Sherlock’s hand with his own, “I need you to feel it more, too. These last two weeks have been hell.”

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock whispered the rare words into John’s hair as they fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“Night-night,” Bella asked confused as she toddled into the room with her parents, uncles, and siblings.

John laughed, “No, pet, that is your cousin’s cot, not yours.”

“Cocin,” Bella attempted to repeat, her nose scrunching up.

“Cousin,” Mycoft enunciated, picking up his daughter. “The baby growing in Uncle John will be your cousin.”

“Baby!” Bella cried happily and reached for John.

John took her from Mycroft, “Yes, baby. Do you think baby will like this room?”

Bella’s head whipped around, before she nodded, “Pwetty.”

“Well, that is Bella’s seal of approval,” Sherlock laughed. “What do the rest of you think?”

The rest of the family took a little more time to actually took about the room. Sherlock’s old bedroom, turned laboratory, had been fully converted to a nursery. The walls were painted a pale yellow, while the trim was painted in a corresponding pale green. The curtains were a slightly darker yellow and the pattern on them was taken from illustrations from Robert Louis Stevenson’s “A Child’s Garden of Verses.” The same fabric was used for the bedding in the dark cherry wood, sleigh-back crib. A matching changing table, bureau and wardrobe also stood in the room. On the walls, framed pages from illustrated children’s book hung in neat, yet asymmetrical clusters. Next to the door was a bookcase filled with well-worn children’s books, many that Mycroft remembered from Sherlock’s childhood and others he suspected came from John’s. Finally, over the crib, in deep forest green, was a hand painted quote from Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Land of Story-Books.” The hand changed from Sherlock’s to John’s script with every other word and read, “And go to bed with backward looks; At the dear land of Story-books,”.

“It’s wonderful,” Anna sighed as she finished surveying the room. “I love the old book pages. And the colors are nice for a boy or girl.”

“Where are the toys,” Will asked, with a nine-years-old practicality.

John smiled and turned to the changing table, opening a small hatch in the front, “Well, we don’t have many yet, but what we have are in here.”

“Pigcat,” Bella scream when she saw the stuffed Piglet in the nook. Soon she was happily pulling the few toys out and examining each one.

Mycroft smiled, “It is lovely. Very appropriate.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t actually going to use body parts for my child’s nursery,” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Maybe not after John’s influence, but I remember I time you would have,” Greg laughed. Taking one last look around, he nodded, “Can’t believe you finished this early.”

Neither man wanted to admit that for the two weeks that they barely spoke, they worked almost continuously on the nursery. John flashed Sherlock a look before smiling at Greg and Mycroft, “Actually, we aren’t done. The blank spot on the wall above the changing table needs another quote, but we want you lot to do it.”

“What,” Mycroft, Greg and the kids all asked together.

“Let me assure you that this was John’s idea during an attack of sentimentality,” Sherlock announced as he sat on floor to help Bella with a puzzle.

John rolled his eyes and gently cuffed Sherlock’s head, “I want the whole family involved in the nursery, so I want you all to write on the wall.”

“But, Bella can’t write,” Will complained.

“No, but Uncle Sherlock came up with an idea for that. We’ll put her handprints under the quote and then when the baby is born, we’ll put his or her handprints under our quote.”

“Like the hand print pictures we made for Bella’s nursery,” Will smiled, pleased with the idea.

“Exactly,” John shared a smile with Greg and Mycroft. Yes, Bella’s nursery was decorated with several pictures made from Anna’s and Will’s hand prints, but unknown to them it was merely Sherlock’s way to make sure he had both kids fingerprints on hand in case something happened. Now he’d be adding Bella’s to his records, but it would also be a cute decoration.

“I like it,” Greg wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders. “What are we writing?” 

John pulled a pot of forest green paint, paintbrush and paper from a bookcase shelf, “We’re going to go from oldest to youngest. So, we’ll start with Greg...”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Greg groused as the kids snickered.

“Then Mycroft, then Anna, then Will and we’ll finish with Bella’s hand prints.”

Greg rolled up his shirt sleeves and helped Mycroft move the changing table out of the way to get to the faint lines guiding where the writing should go. Fairly quickly, but neatly, Greg had painted “May you grow up with” on the wall. Mycroft’s neat script followed with “love and a gracious heart.” Anna’s girly cursive went up a little more slowly, but soon “May you always know” was added. As Will moved into to add “how loved you are.,” Anna turned to look at the other quote.

Finally she asked, “Uncle John?”

“Yeah, pet,” looked up from where he’d carefully lowered himself to the floor to also play with Bella and Sherlock.

“Why is there a comma at the end of your quote? It should be a period.”

John smiled, “Hopefully Robert Louis Stevenson won’t mind too much, but we’re going to add the baby’s name to the end.”

“Oh, that is sweet,” Anna smiled. “Have you picked the names yet?”

John and Sherlock looked at each other. They’d only briefly discussed names during that tense period in the relationship and like everything from that period, they had refrained from revisiting it.

“No, John and I had decided anything yet,” Sherlock finally answered.

“Oh. I came up with a list of girls names. Want to hear it,” Anna dug a piece of notebook paper from her jeans’ back pocket.

John leaned back against Sherlock, “Of course, we’d love it.”

Anna started to read off a list of names that seemed to be mostly composed of pop singer and Royal family members. She slowed towards the end of the list and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “The last name is my favorite, because it fits with us: Arabella”

“Arabella,” John repeated. “I really like it, because it fits with Annabella and Isabella. But what would we call her? Arabella is such a long name and unlike Anna, Ara is a funny name. And Bella’s taken.”

Anna pursed her lips, “Well, we already call Bella Ella sometimes, so we could just keep calling her Ella and the new baby could Bella.”

“I think not,” Mycroft exclaimed. “I named my daughter Isabella. I reluctantly allow her to be called Bella. She will not be Ella.”

“Yeah, Papa,” Bella smiled and toddled over to her birthing father to be picked up.

“She, if she is a she, could be called by her second name.”

John looked at his mate with a smile, “You like Arabella?”

“I do,” Sherlock nodded. “As Anna says it fits with the girls’ names, unless Mycroft and Lestrade want to save it in case they have another girl.”

“Oi, mate, who said we were having more,” Greg asked with a nervous chuckle. 

Sherlock gave him a ‘don’t act like I’m the stupid one’ look, “You and Mycroft have been watching John much more carefully and with a certain longing. You took careful note of the nursery theme and the idea of the writing on the walls. Mycroft has been much more demonstrative with all the children, but especially Bella.”

Greg and Mycroft sighed at the same time, but Mycroft answered, “Yes, brother, we have discussed the idea of another child, but nothing has been determined. And, no, the name Arabella is not reserved.”

John smiled up at the other couple, “That is great news. About the baby, I mean.”

“It’s still early days,” Greg warned, then changed the subject. “What would you used for a second name, if you went with Arabella?”

“Any ideas,” John looked at Anna.

“Um, Elizabeth?”

“Arabella Elizabeth,” Sherlock scoffed. “My name is Sherlock and even I think that would be a ridiculously difficult name to live with.”

“Joy.”

“What, sport,” Greg asked his son as Will added the period to his part of the phrase.

“Arabella Joy is a pretty name,” Will stepped back and tilted his head to look at the words. Satisfied, Will turned to his family, “At least, I think it is a pretty name.”

John pulled the boy to his side, “You’re right, it is. Sherlock, do you like Arabella Joy and calling her Joy?”

“If it is a girl, then yes. Yes, I like it quite a bit,” Sherlock nodded once.

Anna asked, “What if it is a boy?”

“Hamish Doyle,” Sherlock said rather definitively.

John looked up sharply, “What?”

“You once suggested Hamish for a child’s name, since it is your second and paternal grandfather’s name...”

“I was being a jerk when I said that,” John interrupted.

“That may well be, but you meant it quite honestly.” Sherlock continued, “Doyle was your mother’s surname and you’ve been feeling quite sentimental and nostalgic towards her during your gestation.”

“Hamish Doyle,” John repeated, quietly. A little louder, firmer, “Hamish Doyle. I like that.”

Sherlock smiled at John.

John gently rubbed his stomach, “Arabella Joy or Hamish Doyle, this is your family.”

“And your family is getting hungry,” Greg held his hand up to help John off the floor. “Think it is time to head to Angelo’s.”

“What about Bella’s hand prints,” Will asked. 

Mycroft started herding them from the room, “We’ll do them after dinner. It will be easier when she is full and sleepy.”

Once John was on his feet, he held out his hand for Sherlock as the rest of the family left the nursery. Slowly, he kissed each of Sherlock’s knuckles, “Love you.”

“You, too,” Sherlock kissed John’s forehead, then led him from the room.

~*~*~*~*~

The weather had finally broken and summer had finally come to London. While John loved the warmer the weather and the sunshine, it meant that he could no longer hide his frankly huge belly beneath bulky jumpers. He didn’t mind the pleased or jealous looks he got on the street, but the shock and advice or sympathy from his patients was slightly unnerving. 

John was just pulling a rugby shirt over his head, when Sherlock burst into the bedroom.

“Lestrade texted. We have a case.”

“Okay,” John grabbed his notebook and slipped it into the pocket of his paternity pants. “Any idea what it is about?”

“Body apparently with no cause of death.”

John followed Sherlock out of the bedroom and flat, “Sounds like an interesting one, then.”

“Probably not. Lestrade seems determined to give us boring cases while you are with child,” Sherlock sighed in annoyance as he hailed a cab.

As John climbed into the cab, he looked over his shoulder at Sherlock, “He’s looking out for our welfare, Sherlock. And, honestly, will you ever call him Greg?”

“Why,” Sherlock looked genuinely baffled for a moment before giving the cabbie the address.

John rolled his eyes, “Because he is your brother’s mate. The father of your nieces and nephew. And your friend.”

“And he is still all those things, when I call him Lestrade.”

They continued arguing familiarity versus professionalism as the cab weaved through London and as they climbed out at the crime scene. In fact they were so involved in their conversation that they almost passed Sally Donovan without noticing her.

She prevented this by yelling, “What the hell? You’re pregnant!”

Sherlock gave her a look that seemed to imply he’d just smelt something particularly unpleasant, “Very good, Detective Sergeant. Was it the gravid belly that gave it away?”

Donovan ignored him and stared at John, “Not only do you live with him, but you let him impregnate you, too?” 

“Actually,” John linked his fingers with Sherlock’s, “the term is mate. It is common for Alphas and Omegas to do so after they have bonded.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Donovan shook her head.

“The correct response is, ‘Congratulations, this is wonderful news. When are you due,’” Greg growled as he moved forward to greet the two men.

Donovan ducked her head, “Yes, sir.”

“Go help the PC’s sort through the rubbish in the skip next to the house, Donovan,” Greg waved the woman off. Since the trouble she caused with Sherlock, and by extension Greg, he hadn’t been as charitable to his DS. In fact, Greg had fought to have her demoted, but it hadn’t gone through. Instead, he punished her with rubbish, often literally, jobs. Once he was sure she was headed off, Greg turned back to them, “Hell, John, I’ve never seen a Harlequin shirt look like that. You’ve grown since last week.”

John blushed and smoothed a hand over his belly, “Happens the last few weeks. Baby’s growing, so Papa’s growing.”

“You okay being here?”

“Of course,” John laughed. “Got another six weeks, so happy to be here.”

“Good man. Come on, Sherlock, this one might even stump you,” Greg led them into the crime scene.

An hour later, Greg was proved wrong when John found the pin mark under the body’s toenail and Sherlock had found the sewing needle out of place in the maid’s sewing kit. A quick analysis proved that it was tipped with poison. When confronted, she quickly broke down and admitted to wanting to bond with her male employer and needed to break his bond with his mate. Her employer was beside himself with grief, explaining that his mate had just conceived as well.

John and Sherlock both hugged Mrs. Hudson, despite the fact that she wasn’t their housekeeper, when they got back to 221B. They spent the rest of the day and night curled together, reaffirming their bond.

~*~*~*~*~

John’s smile was more of a grimace as he walked into the surgery’s canteen. The room was decorated with pink and blue streamers and buntings. It screamed of cuteness and fluffiness and babies.

Richard clamped a big meaty hand down on John’s shoulder, “Sorry, I tried to convict them not to go overboard, but well...”

“It’s alright,” John assured him. “I’d preferred not to have anything, but I know the staff wanted to do something.”

“Sherlock coming?”

John snorted, “Sherlock would only go to a baby shower if someone was killed during it. So let’s hope that he doesn’t show up to this one.”

Richard laughed and led John into the canteen. 

For the next half hour or so, John kept a smile plastered on his face as plates of tea sandwiches, biscuits, and cake were forced on him. Finally, mercifully, he was led to a large ribbon festooned chair.

“Prezzy time,” Siabhon, one of the perkier receptionist, announced clapping her hands.

Two other receptionists, one complete with hair tipped in blue and pink, squealed and started bringing the pile of presents over towards.

Aaron, one of the surgery’s x-ray techs, sat next to John, “The shopping for this would have been so much easier, if you knew what you were having. My mate and I found out for each of ours and he loved how it helped with the planning.”

John shrugged, “What can I say? Sherlock and I like mysteries and this is the greatest mystery.”

“Besides, you could have asked me. I’d’ve told what they are having,” Richard laughed.

John looked at his friend and doctor, “You know?”

“Of course,” Richard shrugged, “I’ve seen all of your scans. Been obvious a couple of times. Sure you don’t want to know?”

John hesitated for a moment, before finally shaking his head, “No, Sherlock and I decided not to know, so I’m going to abide by that.”

“Okay, then don’t open my present until after the baby is born. Had to use my inside knowledge to get the best gift.”

“Noted,” John nodded.

Aaron snorted, “Sure that is fair.”

Richard laughed, “You know where I keep my scan copies. You just didn’t think of it.”

John and Aaron laughed at this, but before they could continue the girls returned with dozens of pastel wrapped presents. Richard pulled his out and promised to give it to them at the birth. John just smiled at him as he set about opening the various presents. A pile of bodysuits, long and short sleeves; bids, dribble and traditional; shawls; tiny socks; newborn mittens; and cuddly toys slowly emerged. They tended to be in pale yellows, mint greens, and other neutral colors with typical kid-like motifs. Mentally, John was already planning to return all the dinosaur themed things to Marks & Sparks the next day.

~*~*~*~*~

John adored his nieces and nephew, but spending the day with them at Kensington Gardens and especially in the Diana Memorial Playground at 36 weeks pregnant was exhausting. Still watching Bella fall asleep in their soon-to-be child’s cot made John grateful that Sherlock and he had agreed to watch the kids while Mycroft and Greg experienced a heat hoping to mate again. Now, Bella was sleeping, Will and Sherlock had disappeared upstairs to do a hopefully non-explosive experiment, and Anna was working or checking Facebook on her laptop.

John sighed as he sank into the couch.

Anna looked up and smiled, “Long day, huh?”

“You kids wore me out,” John’s stomach visibly moved and he rubbed it. “Yes, all four of you kids. Baby slept all day, while I was walking so now he or she is going to keep me up all night playing.”

“Can I feel,” Anna asked biting her lip.

“Of course, sweetheart. You don’t have to ask. It is your cousin,” John waved her over. When Anna slid next to him, John put an arm around her shoulders and guided Anna’s hand to where the baby was currently elbowing him.

Anna laughed, “That’s amazing.”

“Didn’t your mum or Papa let you feel Will or Bella?”

“Of course, but it is still amazing,” Anna continued to trace the areas where she could feel the baby kick and move. Suddenly, she threw an arm about John and sobbed into his shoulder.

John was shocked for a moment, before wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back, “Anna, sweetheart, what is the matter?”

Anna sniffed and curled into him more, “I just got my test results. I’m a... a... Beta.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that isn’t a bad thing.”

“But what if I never breed? If I never have a baby?”

John kissed her forehead, “Of course, you’ll have a baby. As a Beta you have the amazing opportunity to find a person you love and not just bond with him or her, but actually fall in love and get married and have children.”

“You got to fall in love and got to be an Omega,” Anna pulled away slightly and wiped her eyes.

“Yes, but for years I lived a very solitary, lonely life using drugs to suppress my nature. I lived in body that didn’t feel like my own. However, if I hadn’t done that, then I would have never met Sherlock or been a part of your family. Know why?”

Anna shook her head.

“Because, if I had lived as an Omega my whole life, then when I was just a couple of years older than you I would have fallen into a heat and been mated with someone I didn’t love.”

“Like my biological parents,” Anna sniffed again.

John hugged her, “Oh, Anna. Your parents cared deeply for each other, but they had to learn to feel that way after their mating.”

“Mum told me once that the reason, she suppressed her heats for so long after she had Charlie was because she needed time to find out if Daddy was a good man. She always blamed the difficult relationship between Charlie and Daddy on herself, because she wouldn’t let Daddy bond with him,” Anna pulled her legs up to her chest.

John ran his hand through her long dark hair, “The horrible truth of life is that it isn’t easy. Sure in the next couple of years as you start seeing your Alpha and Omega friends mating, you’re going to think that they have it easy. But, the truth is, they are going to be living with a stranger watching you fall in love with another Beta and be jealous knowing that you choose to be with that person.”

“Would you rather have been born a Beta?”

“Right now? No, because as a male Beta I won’t have experienced this,” John rubbed his belly. “For years though, all I wanted was to live a normal Beta life. My parents were Betas and very much in love, so that looked perfect to me. You’ve got the rare pleasure of seeing two sets of AO couples who are getting the best of both worlds, so you want that too. Sometime, though, ask your Papa about his parents and you’ll understand why for years he was terrified of being an Omega and Uncle Sherlock was terrified of being an Alpha.”

Anna relaxed against him again, “Uncle John?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

John squeezed her, “And I love you. You better, now.”

She nodded, “You’re going to be a great Papa, you know.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Uncle John?”

“Yes?”

“You do realize that Will and I do know what Papa and Daddy are doing this week, don’t you?”

John blushed, “Mmm... Well...”

Anna giggled, “We’re hoping for a brother this time.”

John laughed as he hugged her close.

Just then, Will burst into the flat, “Uncle John, Uncle John, Uncle John, guess what we did!”

“I have no idea,” John answered honestly and a little nervously as Sherlock entered the flat.

“We made a light bulb light up with a potato and a pickle... not at the same time... one after another, you know.”

John smiled at his enthusiasm, “I do know. That is very cool.”

“Tomorrow we’re going to make a rainbow with water and oil,” Will explained.

“That sounds great, but it is getting late. You two go up and get ready for bed and we’ll get your pallets set up. Where do you want to sleep in here or in the nursery?”

“Nursery,” Anna and Will answered together as they headed up to the bathroom.

John held out his hands, silently asking Sherlock to help him off the couch. When John was on his feet, after a bit of a struggle, he wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

“What was that for,” Sherlock asked after they parted.

John smiled and placed one of Sherlock’s hand on his belly, “Giving me a family.”

Sherlock smiled and gave John another peck on his lips.

~*~*~*~*~

“This is the last load,” Mrs. Hudson announced as she carried a basket full of tiny baby clothes into the nursery.

Sherlock took the basket from her and set it on the changing table.

“You really didn’t have to wash all these,” John thanked her.

She patted his hand, “That is okay. It has been a long time since I’ve washed such tiny things. And it is important that all the clothes be washed properly before using them on Baby. Just remember, I am your landlady not your nanny.”

“Yes,” Sherlock wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “but you’re going spoil this child rotten, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” she stated like it was absolute fact, making them both laugh.

John moved to the changing table and began sorting the laundry into piles of bodysuits, socks, and nappies. The nappies he put directly into the drawer in the changing table, while he handed the bodysuits to Sherlock, who insisted there needed to be an index for the way they were put away, and the socks to Mrs. Hudson to put away.

Fingering the socks as she put them away, Mrs. Hudson sighed, “You know, I knew you two wouldn’t need the second bedroom for John, but I can’t believe you ended up needing it for a nursery.”

Sherlock moved behind John and wrapped his arms around his mate, “I’m afraid the flat might get noisier in the months to come.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson shot him a look, “a baby could never make as much noise as you when you are bored.”

John snorted at that.

“I just hope you three don’t leave me too soon,” Mrs. Hudson started welling up.

John pulled away from Sherlock and went to her, “Why would we leave?”

“Space,” she allowed John to pull her into his side. “This flat will be okay for a little while, but you’re young enough to have two or three more breeds and then...”

“Oh, Mrs. Hudson,” John kissed her temple as she trailed off, “Sherlock and I are not going to turn into breeding machines. We’re not going to be one of those AO couples that pop out a kid every 11 months.”

“Although a sibling for this one is not out of the question,” Sherlock added.

John flashed him a smile, “No, a sibling would be a good, but one. And we’ll wait until this one is at the very least walking and talking. Like Mycroft and Greg did.”

Sherlock moved to Mrs. Hudson’s other side, “See, there is plenty of room for two children here in 221B. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with John and I and the child for quite some time yet.”

“Oh, that is wonderful. I don’t know what I’d do without you boys,” she promptly broke into tears.

John and Sherlock hugged her closer, John whispering, “And we wouldn’t know what to do without our landlady.”

Suddenly the baby kicked hard enough to actually push Mrs. Hudson slightly. 

Sherlock laughed, “Looks like he or she agrees with us.”

“Oh, such a good little one,” Mrs. Hudson cooed, resting her hands on John’s stomach.

~*~*~*~*~

With a week and a half left in his gestation, John became a victim of ‘nesting.’ Apparently all pregnant people experienced some form of nesting, but an Omega male was usually hit harder. In three days, John had torn apart every wardrobe, closet and cabinet in the flat and reorganized them according to such a complex system that even Sherlock had difficulty following it. John had also scrubbed every surface and forced Sherlock into cleaning his lab, despite the fact that John wouldn’t enter it at this point, and reorganizing his papers.

Then he started a frenzy of baby proofing that made it twice as difficult to do anything in the kitchen and front hall. All outlets had been covered; all the freestanding furniture had been strapped to the wall with anti-tip straps; and safety gates were installed at the top and bottom of all the stars despite the fact that it would be months before the baby was crawling. 

A highchair stood in the kitchen waiting to be used. In the parlour, the hearth had been covered in a safety shield. A baby swing sat between Sherlock and John’s armchairs. At the end of their shared desk a moses basket rocking stand stood with a natural maize moses basket with green and yellow checked padding. In their bedroom a co-sleeper cot had been installed on John’s side of the bed and a small changing table had been set up next to Sherlock’s wardrobe. A baby bathtub was propped up next to the tub in the bathroom.

Like most AO couples, John and Sherlock had decided on a home birth. Since most Omegas’ labor took as long as their heats, provisions such as protein bars and shakes and easily prepared food filled the cabinets. A stack of bedding sat next to the couch, for Richard, who would be there to attend, to have a place to rest during the labor week.

Occasionally, Sherlock would walk into the flat and be overcome by the sheer ‘un-them-ness’ of the whole thing. In those moments, John would open his arms and allow Sherlock to burrow his head into the crook of John’s neck, inhaling the unique bonded Omega scent that John now gave off so heavily. After a few moments, Sherlock would straighten and look around the flat with a faint quirking of his lips.

This was how John knew they were ready, as anyone can be, to be parents.

~*~*~*~*~

“So, do you have a girlfriend,” John teased as they sat in the very booth they sat in the first time they’d dined at Angelo’s.

Sherlock, who wasn’t looking out the window, but intently at John, laughed and played along, “No, not really my area.”

“Ah, a boyfriend, then?”

“No, no boyfriend, either.”

A momentary flash of hurt drifted over his face, until John decided that Sherlock was just recreating the moment as he had started it, “It would be fine, by the way, if you did.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Sherlock shook his head. “My mate, my love, would object to it quite strongly.”

John laughed and took Sherlock’s hand, “Damn straight, I would. Thank you, love, this actually was a lovely idea. Sorry I resisted at first.”

Sherlock picked up their joined hands and kissed John’s fingers, “It is alright. You’re preparing for the delivery. A romantic dinner is not high on your list of priorities.”

“It should have been,” John sighed. “We don’t have many days left where we will just be John and Sherlock... Holmes and Watson. Soon we’re going to be parents and will ever divide our thinking between before baby and after baby.”

Sherlock smiled, “I’ve divided my life into before John and after John for years now anyhow. I’ve deleted so many things before that January day in St. Bart’s lab when I saw you for the first time.”

“Yeah, when I look back on my life it seems like all I see, all I remember is Afghanistan and you... our life together. The good times and the bad.”

“I hope, in the whole, the good outweigh the bad,” Sherlock said solemnly.

John smiled softly, “Oh, love, you’ve no idea how much that is true. It is true that our relationship, our life, our everything is unconventional, but I’ve loved it and I’ll continue to love it. I’m so excited for our next great adventure together being parents.”

Sherlock sighed and began digging in his pocket, “John, I know that it isn’t legal or recognized by Queen or Country, but I don’t feel like you are just my partner or my mate. I believe in my heart, something you made me realize I actually had, that you are my husband. Would you do me the honor of wearing my ring?”

“Oh, Sherlock,” John began crying softly as Sherlock slipped a gold ring onto his finger, then held out a matching ring for John to slip onto his finger. While marriage between any class of Beta was legally recognized, for years Parliament had prevented marriages between Alphas and Omegas. The traditional belief being that the bond between Alpha and Omega was not on par with the relationship between Betas. The bond was chemically based and unbreakable except through death, so there didn’t need to be any other definition to the relationship. A small percentage of AO couples fought to see AO marriage legalized, but most just didn’t care or went to America where AO marriage was legal.

Sherlock again picked up John’s hand and kissed the metal band, “You are my everything. Thank you for giving me your love, your body and your child.”

“Our love and our child,” John corrected before pulling Sherlock to him in a gentle kiss. “Take me home before I completely embarrass both of us and get us arrested for public indecency.” 

“Happy to,” Sherlock returned the kiss with a little more fervor, before helping John up and leading them out into the street to find a taxi.

~*~*~*~*~

“Sherlock, what the hell! I told you if you didn’t want to leave John, I’d text you pictures,” Greg bellowed as John and Sherlock appeared at the top of stairs. A body had been found in a fourth floor flat and of course the lift was out of order.

“Not his fault,” John accepted the large pair of blue coveralls from one of the forensic techs. “I was going crazy cooped up in the flat.”

Sherlock tugged on the coveralls, “He just won’t listen to reason.”

“I am being reasonable. I’m fine. I’m not due for a couple of days and I’m in perfect health. I wish you’d stop treating me like an invalid.”

John stomped, well waddled heavily, into the flat, leaving Greg to turn towards Sherlock, “Getting a little overly Alpha with him?”

“I can’t help it. He’s so close to delivering. The flat is all prepared for a week of labour, but he just can’t seem to accept that he needs to conserve energy for the birth.”

“Come on,” Greg shook his head and headed into the flat. “Let’s get in there before he does something rash.”

John was squatted next to the body when they entered. He was pulling back the victim's eyelids, “She was strangled. From the bruises, I’d say that he tried first with his hands, but had to then use a rope of some sort.”

Sherlock swooped in to study the body himself as John stood slightly awkwardly and moved to the side. For several minutes he watched Sherlock examine the body, suddenly an odd look crossed his face and his hand pressed against his belly. A few seconds later John relaxed, but it wasn’t more than a minute later that the same thing happened.

“Fuck,” John swore and quickly waddled from the flat.

“John,” Greg called after him, but got no response. “Sherlock, something is wrong with John.”

Sherlock turned panicked eyes to Greg, then rushed from the room with Greg in his wake. In the hall they found John pressing his hands against the wall, his feet spread wide, his arse pushed out, grunting.

Sherlock stepped up next to him and placed his hand on the small of John’s back, “John, you are in labour.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” John growled.

“Relax, John,” Greg moved up next to them. “We’ll get you back to Baker Street and everything will be fine.”

John shook his head, “Everything is happening too fast. No,” suddenly his waters broke with a splash, “time.”

Greg stared at the wet spot under John, “It took a week for Mycroft’s waters to break with Bella.”

Sherlock started rubbing John’s back, “John must fall into the 11% of Omegas that birth extremely quickly.”

John let out a long, low moan. His belly contracted so much it looked like it was being pulled back into his body, “Sherlock, the baby is coming fast. I don’t want to have it in the hallway.”

“The flat next to the crime scene is empty. I’ll send someone to get the key,” Greg pointed to the door behind them.

“No time,” Sherlock spun around and neatly kicked in the flat’s door. Moving back to John, he carefully peeled John’s hands from the wall and guided him into the empty flat.

“Kitchen,” John panted, “I want to lean on the counter.”

Sherlock got them to the kitchen and leaned John next to the counter.

Immediately, John turned and braced himself on the counter, “Get my clothes off.”

Sherlock ripped the paper coveralls off, then reached around to undo John’s belt and flies. Quickly, he pushed John’s pants and trousers down to pool at his ankles. Lifting each of John feet, he pulled his shoes and the trousers off completely, leaving John naked from the waist down.

John, who was moaning steadily, reached for Sherlock, he pulled his mate into a searing, searching kiss.

As they finally broke apart, now both panting, Sherlock looked at John, “John?”

“This feels amazing, Sherlock. I’m an Omega, my body was made to do this and you’re the one that gave it to me. I wish I could make you feel as good as I feel right now,” he reached for Sherlock’s groin, but suddenly stopped. John threw his head back in a moan, dropping into a deep squat, “Sherlock... Sherlock... our baby is coming... NOW!”

Sherlock moved behind John and sure enough a dark head of hair was parting John’s cheeks, “It’s crowning, John. Push when you feel the need.”

John grunted, pushing. It took a few hard pushes on top of the hard contractions for the head to move at all. Sherlock moved his hand to John’s belly and as he felt his mate’s stomach contracting he pushed down as well. Two such pushes and the head was fully out. Sherlock carefully cradled the small head in his hand. The baby twisted slightly making it easier for John to push out the shoulders, which took two grunting, straining pushes to get out. Sherlock now held his child’s head in one hand, while the other supported its back.

“One more push, John, and our child will be born.”

“I know,” John whispered reverently looking over his shoulder as best he could. “Here comes the contraction.”

With little effort, John pushed with the contraction and the child slid completely from him into Sherlock’s hands.

“A boy,” Sherlock cried as he bent to use his mouth to clear their son’s airway. A cry pierced the room and a round of applause sounded from the door, where the forgotten Yarders had watched the birth. Sherlock spared them a glance, “Well, don’t be idiots someone get me something to cut the cord and something for the afterbirth.”

“Sherlock,” John started to turn.

Sherlock pushed on his leg, “Wait, the cord.” Carefully, Sherlock passed the baby between John’s legs and helped John down onto the floor.

Cradling the baby, John kissed his tiny forehead, “Hullo, Hamish Doyle Holmes. We’ve been waiting so long for you.”

“Yes, we’ve waited a lifetime for you,” Sherlock wrapped his arm around his mate and his child, while kissing John’s sweaty temple.

John turned to give Sherlock a proper kiss. He ended up grunting into Sherlock’s mouth as the afterbirth slid from him with a small contraction.

Lestrade appeared back in the vacant flat, carrying a pair of surgical scissors, a large evidence bag and two orange shock blankets, “Ambulance techs are on the way up to take you to St. Bart’s.”

“Thanks, Greg,” John smiled.

Sherlock took the scissors and cleanly cut the cord. As Greg helped John wrap the baby in one of the blankets and cover himself with the other, Sherlock quickly put the afterbirth into the evidence bag to go to the cord bank for storage.

Sherlock suddenly looked up, “John, we have a son.”

“Yes, love, we do,” John laughed, pulling Sherlock to his side. “We have a little boy with your dark curls.”

The baby is John’s arms made a mewling sound and yawned, his eyes popping open. Sherlock ran a long finger down his cheek, “And your eyes.”

Greg took a quick picture with his phone and texted it to his family.

**Hamish Doyle is here.**

~*~*~*~*~

John woke to the sound of Sherlock’s voice and the realization that Hamish was not in the co-sleeping cot next to him. Sitting up quickly, John peered through the gentle pink dawn light and was greeted by a beautiful sight. Sherlock was silhouetted in the window, in his arms Hamish sucked greedily on a bottle as his tiny hand reached for Sherlock. John sat there just watching his mate and son for a few moments.

“I know, you’ve had a big couple of days, but you are home now and things should be quiet for a little while. Papa needs to relax for a few days, so Daddy told Les... Uncle Greg that I’m not taking any cases for a while to spend time with you. Daddy isn’t always going to get it right, but he’s going to try.”

Feeling slightly guilty for eavesdropping, John quietly called out, “Sherlock, everything okay?”

Sherlock turned to face the bed, “Everything is fine. Hamish was hungry and I didn’t want to wake you so I got a bottle.”

“Thank you.” John patted the bed, “Come back to bed? Let me watch?”

Sherlock moved to the bed and slid in next to John, “He’s a good eater.”

John laughed, “Maybe he’ll get his stomach from me and his brain from you.”

“Rather he gets his heart from you,” Sherlock sighed.

John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder, “I’m rather fond of your heart, you know.” 

Sherlock kissed John’s temple.

John reached out and grabbed Hamish’s hand that was waving around, “Hullo there, Daddy giving you a good snack, huh? Daddy’s taking good care of you. Just like he always will.”

Hamish continued sucking on his bottle as his eyes blinked blearily up at his parents.

“Okay, little man, I think you’ve had enough. Need to burp you before you fall asleep on me,” Sherlock removed the bottle and Hamish’s little mouth continued to move but he didn’t seem to mind too much. John moved off Sherlock’s shoulder so that he could prop Hamish against it. A couple of gentle pats and Hamish gave a small, gurgling burp.

“Good boy,” John kissed Hamish’s head. “He’s falling asleep. Want me to put him in the cot?”

“I suppose we should.”

“You can hold him a little longer, you know.”

Sherlock kissed Hamish’s head, “I know, but I’d rather like to hold his Papa as well, right now.”

“I think that could be arranged,” John gently took Hamish and laid him in the cot. John slid closer to the cot and felt Sherlock curling in behind him. When John laid down, Sherlock spooned up close to John. Reaching for Sherlock’s hand, he brought it up so that both their hands lay lightly over their son.

Sherlock buried his nose in John’s hair and inhaled deeply, “I’m so glad you’re both healthy and home.”

Unsure what to say to that, without becoming an emotional mess, John tangled their legs together and sighed, “Me, too, love. Me, too.”

The three men drifted off back to sleep, connected.

~*~*~*~*~

Three days after the birth, John was struggling to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. The doctor in John knew that this was so that his body could recuperate, but the Omega in John just want to be awake to hold his child. Waking from one of his numerous naps, John found Hamish tucked in against his side and Sherlock standing by the window feeding their daughter, Arabella Joy. The scene was so familiar to one nearly five years ago that John found his mind drifting as he curled around his son.

Due to the almost surreal nature of Hamish’s birth, Richard had insisted that both John and Hamish remain in hospital for a couple of days so tests could be run to make sure they were both healthy. Most of the tests had to do with John’s RBS, Rapid Birthing Syndrome. Of the 11% of Omegas who have RBS only 2% were male and Richard had never had a male patient with RBS, so he ordered every test possible. Two days later Richard had declared them both healthy and sent them home, John feeling like a pincushion. The first couple of months were a blur of sleepless nights and unending piles of laundry and streams of baby bottles and small moments of bliss and frayed nerves from all three of them.

Then one morning Hamish had smiled delightedly at his parents and suddenly it was all worth it as John and Sherlock fell into the rhythm of parenting.

Bella turned two when Hamish was two and a half months old. Unlike the elaborate First Birthday celebration, the family had gathered at Mycroft and Greg’s flat for dinner, cake and a movie of Bella’s choosing. Towards the end of the movie with princesses and singing animals, Mycroft had pulled John to the side and lifted his waistcoat to display a small, but noticeable bump. Despite still being on paternity leave, John agreed to once again act as his doctor. The routine of weekly dinners and examinations started soon after, much to the delight of all four children.

Then a typical scan revealed two heartbeats, two heads, four arms and four legs.

The idea of twins had shocked Mycroft and Greg to the point that neither man seemed willing to process or accept the idea. For weeks they both continued on as if they were expecting one baby. Sherlock had finally confronted Greg one day with a sonogram picture and asked which child pictured Greg wanted to terminate. According to Sherlock, the bloody nose Greg had given him was worth it when the second cot was delivered. 

Then Parliament had mysteriously reversed years of precedent and passed the AO Marriage Act.

While John and Sherlock had worn rings since just before Hamish’s birth, they didn’t feel the need to rush off to actually get married. After a long discussion, they decided wait until after Hamish’s first birthday to have a ceremony, though they stopped introducing each other as mate and started using husband. If occasionally information about hotels offering AO wedding packages made it into the flat, neither John or Sherlock would claim to be the source, but check marks would appear next to the parts that one or both liked.

On the other hand, Mycroft and Greg had quickly decided to take advantage of the new law. Considering just how quickly everything was arranged, John assumed and Sherlock deduced that the plans had been formalized years before. On a lovely spring afternoon, Greg and Mycroft had exchanged vows in the sun drenched conservatory of the family estate in Sussex. Mycroft, Greg and Will wore matching morning dress with charcoal grey coats, charcoal and dove grey chalkstripe trousers, dove grey waistcoats, pale blue shirts and slightly darker blue wedding ties. Greg and Will looked vaguely uncomfortable in the formal attire, but Mycroft’s suit had been expertly tailored to minimize his seven-month twin swollen stomach. Anna and Bella were in dressed pale pink with sashes of deep rose; however Anna’s was a sleek A-line strapless dress with bolero jacket, while Bella’s was a sweet, frothy dress appropriate for a two-year-old. 

Sherlock, knowing his brother’s tastes, had insisted that John and he also get morning dress, but fortunately Sherlock had agreed to black lounges instead of cutaways. Sherlock had opted for waistcoat, shirt and tie in his signature deep purple, while John opted for the less flashy creams. As for Hamish, he wore what John was sure was the world’s smallest white Eton jacket, short trousers, knee high socks, and leather shoes. John had to admit that the family pictures were quite impressive.

Then two months later John once again got ‘the call’ and a week later Arthur and Joseph were added to the family.

Arthur, immediately dubbed Artie, and Joseph, immediately dubbed Joey, were smaller than Bella or Hamish had been, but completely within acceptable range for twins. With two newborns; John, Sherlock and Hamish stayed with the family for a week. Two newborns, one toddler and one infant led to four exhausted adults. Still when Sherlock would finally fall into the guest room bed next to John, there was a smile on his face that John had never seen before. One night laying there watching Sherlock sleep with Hamish on his chest, John realized it was perfect contentment. For the first time, Sherlock knew he was loved and capable of loving.

Then Hamish turned one.

The year of firsts drew to a close and John dutiful recorded them on the “Baby Boy Blog” that Richard had set up as his shower gift all those months ago. His first laugh, which had been directed at his cousin Bella during a family dinner. His first time sleeping through the night, which had happened the night Daddy had finally solved a case that had keep them all mostly up for the better part of two days. The first time he sat up, only later did they realize he was trying to see the skull better. The first time he crawled and suddenly, as he decided the old Persian slipper by the hearth looked like a wonderful teething toy, the flat didn’t seem as ‘baby proof’ as it had the week before. His first time waving ‘bye-bye’ accompanied by big, fat baby tears as Anna left the flat after an unplanned visit. The first time he pulled himself up using the couch and stood staring at his father in his ‘important thoughts pose.’ (Turning his head to see Hamish’s face had frightened, shocked and pleased Sherlock so badly that it took two extra days to solve the case.) His first word, which was an excited squeal of “bored” that made both his parents laugh so loud and long they scared him into tears. And, of course, there were his first steps, just days before his birthday, taken towards his Papa as he returned from his first day back at the surgery. The year of firsts was capped by a birthday celebration at 221B, where Hamish was appropriately the center of attention.

Then Greg was stabbed during a case.

Suddenly their world narrowed to grey hospital walls, white bandages and high red spot on his children’s tear stained cheeks. Bella, Hamish, Artie, and Joey were ensconced with Mrs. Hudson at 221B, while the older children, Mycroft, John and Sherlock haunted the rooms of the ICU. Despite not having any rights at that hospital, after Mycroft had a quiet word with Greg’s doctor, John was handed Greg’s chart after every check up. On the third day, Charlie had shown up ashen faced and shaking. Mycroft and he spoke quietly for a long time a dim corner of the waiting room, before Charlie had fallen sobbing into Mycroft’s embrace. When Greg woke a week later, the first thing he saw was his eldest son asleep on his husband’s shoulder. To the astonishment of his doctors, Greg was released two weeks later and John knew part of his rapid recovery was the return of his son to his family.

Then Sherlock asked John to marry him.

It was as different as Mycroft and Greg’s wedding as possible. Just a Friday afternoon in the local registry office. John and Hamish, as per Sherlock’s request, wore matching oatmeal colored jumpers and jeans. Sherlock, as per John’s request, wore his black suit and royal blue shirt. Mycroft and Greg allowed the children a half day from school, so they were wearing their school uniforms and the younger one were in play-clothes. Everyone else; which was a small list including Mrs. Hudson, Mike Stamford, one Molly O'Donnell nee Hooper just returned from Ireland, and even Charlie; wore casual clothes. The wedding pictures looked more like an afternoon in the park than an wedding, but there were smiles on every person’s face. John and Sherlock replaced the bands they had worn for the last couple of years for thicker, fancier bands. Inside Sherlock had inscribed the dates they met, Hamish was born, they married, and enough space for one more set of dates. 

Then Hamish turned three and John still hadn’t had a heat.

John and Sherlock both went to see Richard to see if there was something truly wrong. Richard, once again, turned John into a pincushion, but couldn’t find anything preventing John’s heats. In the end, Richard decided to try a course of hormone boosting shots. A week after the treatments, John fell into heat, but it only lasted three short days and the breed was unsuccessful. This pattern continued for three more heats.

After the third round, John had retreated into a shell. He felt a failure as an Omega and as Sherlock’s mate. The empty spot inside his ring seemed to burn into his skin, mocking him for not being able to give his Alpha more children. The flat was silent, save for the sounds of Hamish, for three weeks. One night, John lay curled on their bed when he felt Hamish snuggling, sleepily into his back. Rolling to cuddle his son, John found Sherlock watching him. As Sherlock curled around John and Hamish, he spoke in a low, sweet voice. For an hour, Sherlock told John how complete his life was, how he loved him and their son, how things were perfect and Hamish didn’t need a sibling when he had all those cousins. John had kissed Sherlock over Hamish’s head, before settling into his husband’s arms for the first good night’s sleep in weeks. Life in 221B returned to normal within a couple of days.

Then John felt the familiar tingling of a heat.

John had been at the surgery and frantically called Sherlock to get Hamish to his uncles’ and meet him back at 221B. It was a full 11 days before the heat finally subsided. A week later, John once again sat in Richard’s office discussing football waiting for test results. Just like nearly five years previous, the computer pinged with a positive result. Nine months of ups and downs, joys and worries passed. Once again 221B was transformed into a baby friendly zone. Hamish’s nursery was transformed, under his careful direction, by his uncles and cousins into a half “big boy” room, half nursery. The whole room was done in a Hundred Acres theme complete with a low loft, natural wood bed with tent top, his ‘big brother’ present, on Hamish’s side of the room.

Then John gave birth, at home not at a crime scene this time, to a baby girl.

John watched Sherlock feeding their daughter in the dawn light as he gently carded his fingers through Hamish’s dark curls. Arabella Joy had fine blonde hair that would take ages to fill out completely, like John’s had, and piercing eyes like Sherlock. As John watched, Sherlock turned and smiled at him. He moved over towards the bed and slid in beside Hamish and John. When Joy was finished eating and had been burped, Sherlock carefully handed her to John to lay in the co-sleeping cot. John carefully shifted Hamish between him and Joy and wrapped his arm around both his children. Sherlock’s long arms wrapped around all three of them.

Yes, the rarest of rare things happened to John Watson-Holmes. He, a Class A Omega, had fallen in love, had children conceived and born of love, and lived surrounded by love.

**Author's Note:**

> Baby Names:  
> Supposedly, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle based the character of Sherlock Holmes on Dr. Joseph Bell, thus I decided to name Mycoft and Greg's baby Bell, which evolved into Bella and having the trio of Anna-, Isa- and Arabella. Hamish was easy considering John's line in Scandal and again in tribute to the author I added the Doyle. Joseph and Arthur are for Dr. Bell and Sir Doyle, respectively.
> 
> Series:  
> I do have (at least) two more fics in the works in this so-called series. One is a cross-over with Person of Interest that takes place during the Great Hiatus. The other is Greg and Mycroft's story running fairly parallel with this story. When they will be finished is anyone's guess!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> HELP!! I've written a sequel to this (not either of the ones talked about above) and I need a beta. Somehow, the new one feels really rough. SO if you don't mind sex and childbirth and can brit-pick, please leave a comment or shoot me an email at leelee1978@yahoo.com. 
> 
> Also, I just figure out how to reply to comments, so thanks to who left comments. And those that left questions/detailed comments will be getting very late replies.
> 
> Thanks!!


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